Dawn
by wtfrenchtoast
Summary: Marian's first night as an outlaw. Takes place right after Show Me the Money. R/M, fluffy with a bit of angst.


So I know I've been severely lagging in updating Dusk and Summer, but I've hit a major roadblock with where I want it to go, so this was my little project in the meantime. Hope you like. :)

Marian's first night as a real outlaw. Spoilers through Show Me the Money. I do not own any of the characters from the show, I'm just borrowing them until this wretched obsession wanes and I can return to a normal life. :)

* * *

A steady drip of rainwater landed not far from her head every few moments. There was a cold, lumpy something digging into her shoulder blade. A fly buzzed lazily past her nose, hovering uncomfortably close to her left eye. She sighed. Swatting at it would be futile; she'd spent the last ten minutes trying to fight off the pesky insect with nothing but a self-inflicted scratch on her nose to show for it.

This was not how Marian had envisioned forest living.

That is not to say, however, that she had expected some lavish, grand estate with all the amenities of home. The more-than-slightly ripe smell that emanated off of Robin and the rest of the gang settled that in her mind very early on. She knew that living off the land would take some…adjustment.

But, as a noblewoman, she did tend to take some comforts for granted. Comforts that she now was kicking herself for not appreciating when they had been as readily available as the air she breathed. A proper bed. A warm bath. Anything to eat that didn't have a bushy tail and beady eyes.

She rolled onto her side in an attempt to alleviate the pain in her back. It seemed that no matter how she contorted her body there was always something poking or digging or dripping.

Or snoring. The cacophony of snores could be set to music and performed at the next town fair – John's was low and warbling, Will's was hiccupped and usually accompanied by a whistling exhale, Much's was high-pitched and peppered with wacky mumblings of "No, master, not until after we eat" and other things of that sort. Djaq would sleep quietly for a bit, and then murmur something unintelligible but just audible enough to distract Marian from falling asleep. Robin was the only one that slept silently, peacefully, with no embellishments. And yet, Marian suspected that his slumber may be the most troubled of them all.

After turning and tossing about for what felt like years, she finally threw off the heavy blanket that both warmed and stifled her and sat up. As quietly as she could, she slipped her boots on and drew her cloak around her. Next to her, Much muttered, "You wash it, I'm busy," and she jumped nearly out of her skin. She shook her head, smiling to herself, and sneaked in near silence out of the camp.

An eye, whose owner had been equally as restless, popped open as Marian stalked by.

* * *

She walked for a few minutes, in a straight line from the entrance to the camp so she could easily retrace her route back. A small stream cut across her path, and she decided that this was a good place to stop.

The night air was chilly and slightly damp, and Marian removed her cloak to sit on. The moon provided a bright yet somber spotlight, highlighting some of the forest but leaving most of it pitch black. Marian perched herself on a smooth rock. Maybe now, in this peaceful corner of the forest, the constant maelstrom of her mind could be quieted.

Close to an hour passed, and she found herself oddly comforted by the lullaby of soft forest sounds. The creek gently gurgled, the breeze wound through the trees with soft whispers, and a squirrel scurried across the dry leaves with tiny crackling noises. Marian found herself relaxing enough to silently congratulate the squirrel on not finding itself anywhere near Much, who would certainly and swiftly add the rodent to the gang's next meal. She almost missed the slow, deliberate cracking of leaves and twigs behind her.

Almost.

As quickly as an eyeblink, Marian whipped a dagger out of her bodice, leapt up, whirled around and thrust the point of the dagger to within an inch of her intruder's nose.

"Well, would you look at those reflexes! Amazing! The king's guard would be blessed, for sure, if they'd only be taking women nowadays!"

If she hadn't been able to decipher Robin's voice by sound, it would surely have been by the ever-present cheekiness. Before she could even see his face she knew he was smirking. Lowering the dagger, she admonished, "Very funny. I could have taken your nose off, you know. Then we'd see how perky and cheery you'd be then."

Robin stepped into a patch of moonlight, illuminating just the tip of his recently endangered nose, his brow, and his lips. He folded his arms. "I'd find a way," he assured her. "What are you doing out here?" No beating around the bush, just straight to the point. Marian knew he must have worried about her if he spoke so directly.

She dropped her eyes. "Nothing," she answered. "Just getting a bit of air. Am I allowed to breathe, or should I have cleared it with the almighty Robin Hood?" Immediately she regretted the bitterness that inevitably leaked into her words like a nasty poison. Robin's brow furrowed and the stung expression on his face made her feel even worse. Her shoulders fell. "I am sorry," she recanted. "I am stressed, and grieving, and I should not have been so-"

"Sssh," said Robin as he stepped towards her, enfolding her in his arms. Marian let herself melt into him, relishing the feeling of his lean yet muscular arms surrounding her. "Do not apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for. Well," he pulled back and held her shoulders at arms' length, "maybe for wandering off in the middle of the night, not telling a soul where you're off to, and compelling me to search every nook and cranny for the last twenty minutes only to find you stargazing, happy as a pig in slop." He grinned and narrowly avoided her gentle swat on the nose in retribution.

He took her hand and led her down to the very edge of the creek, where he sat them both down, settling her down with her back to him between his legs. Together they lay back, Robin resting his head on his hands, the ultimate vision of repose, and Marian letting her head fall back onto his stomach, both of their faces tilted towards the night sky. Robin let his fingers trail along her cheek, her collarbone, the tender place where her neck met her shoulder. Despite the heavy thoughts that weighed on her mind, she couldn't help but feel comforted by the feel of his rough fingers caressing her. "Do you think he is up there?" she questioned, to no one in particular.

Robin paused in his ministrations. "Your father? Or do you mean…God?"

"I don't know. Both, I suppose. Or maybe neither. What do you think is up there, so far away?" She twirled a silky ringlet of hair around her finger.

"Perhaps other worlds, filled with people, just like us. Maybe there is another Robin, and another Marian, lying in a spot just like this." He smiled at the proposition. Maybe, he thought indulgently, maybe in that world the two of them lived in Locksley Manor, with children running rampantly about, and their benevolent king conducted a fair and proper state of affairs and England was just again. His heart ached for how far away that scene felt.

"Not another Vasey or Gisborne, though, I hope. The universe has got its hands full with just one of each."

Robin chuckled and smoothed Marian's hair back from her face. "It is true." He folded his arms back underneath his head. "I dunno, my love. People have had all sorts of scatterbrained ideas about what lies above us. My mum used to call the stars 'holes in the floor of heaven.' My father said that they were tiny little suns, keeping the world warm when the real sun goes down." Marian twisted herself around and gave Robin an incredulous look, one that said _You can't be serious_? He laughed lightly. "All right, so that was a bit of a fib. I personally have yet to come up with a more convincing theory. But Marian, please tell me. Is this why you jumped ship in the middle of the night? Left the toasty fire of the camp and my excellent company to come out here and muse about the stars?"

She felt like a child with her hand caught in the cookie jar. "Yes. And no. I feel like I can't breathe. All I wanted was the freedom to move, to do what I thought best without my father imposing rules on me. For so long he was constantly preoccupied with what was proper, and keeping out of the Sheriff's way. I just wanted to be free. And now, I am, and I hate it." Her voice cracked on the last few words. She swallowed hard and forced back the tears. "You wouldn't understand." Trembling slightly, she raised her hand to her eyes, wiping away the stray teardrop that threatened to fall.

Robin gently squirmed out from beneath her body and scooted so he sat facing her. "Yes, I would," he countered meaningfully. "My first night in the Holy Land, I sat up from dusk til dawn wondering why I wanted so badly to get out of Nottingham." Marian raised her eyebrows. Robin rarely let any tidbit of his time at war slip out, and she noticed a miniscule clenching of his jaw muscles whenever he did. "Be careful what you wish for, right? But you learn to make the best of things, because that's all you can do. One way or another, we will be all right." He caressed her cheek with his fingers, staring deeply into her luminous blue eyes. "I promise. Besides, it is always darkest before the dawn. You'll see."

She cracked a small half-smile as she noticed the first streaks of morning light lace through the sky.

* * *

Okay, so the ending's a bit cheesy. I love fluff, though, even if it's a bit of angsty fluff.


End file.
